


Crime and Revenge

by KarkatSizemore



Series: Insane or Vengeful, Crazy or Alone [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Detailed murder, Dirk is a shrink, Insane Jake, Jake gets put on death rowe, Jake kills a guy, M/M, Murder, Prison, Psychoanalysis, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3106061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarkatSizemore/pseuds/KarkatSizemore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake and his grandma live in a suburban home together. All is well and good with the two until Jake goes out to get food. When he returns he finds his grandmother at gunpoint and murdered right before his eyes. Jake finds the man and kills him, and is sent to prison where he meets Dirk, is shrink. They bond and Jake his sentenced to death.<br/>Dirk does some stupid things to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crime and Revenge

____________________________________________________________________________

It was such a beautiful day, the sun was shining bright on his and his grandmother's new home, a fresh coat of paint applied by yours truly, it looked as good as new. 

Jake English is his name and he's excited to start his new life here in this quaint little town, he don't remember the name of the city, just where the groceory was and the school he was to attend next month. Speaking of the grocery he better head out, running low on milk and bread, plus he would get his dear grandmother something, perhaps some candy? She did always love sweets! Regardless he bounded down the stairs, finding his deer granny sitting on the couch, her hands folded as she watched a cooking show. Jake chuckles and announces his arrival, letting her know he would be back soon. She nodded and Jake headed out the front door, shutting it behind him and locking it as he trotted down the steps, walking around back to snatch up his bike out of the small shed. The store was only a few blocks down the road, why drive when you can work your muscles on an adventurous bike ride?

He started down the road, humming to himself as he goes, avoiding people walking and the occasional pothole, looking around and admiring at all the interesting buildings and people, trying to remember where the stores are. Oh! A fabric shop, granny would surely love to go in there and get some things! He himself had no interest in sewing, as far as he was concerned he had better things to do! Like practice with his two pistols he has had since he could remember. The gun store was a block closer then the food store, in fact. He waved as he passed it up, they had only been moved in for about two weeks but the people at that particular building know him very well.  
They call him One-Shot English. He never missed.

Jake stopped in front of the small general store, walking in and grabbing a basket, wondering down isles until he found the things he needed, grabbing himself a candy bar and his grandmother a beautiful little hairpin he had seen.  
He lay the things down on the counter for the young lady to scan them, humming to himself and looking up at a rather odd painting, it looked like some sort of horse, the picture itself wasn't all that grand, but the frame it was mounted in was very nice. 

He was snapped back to reality when the lady cleared her throat, Jake turning back to her with a grin.  
"Oh! Oh dear i'm sorry, I spaced out." He glanced up at the monitor and took out a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, taking his change and sticking the bills back inside, dropping his change in an orphanage fund-raiser.  
He went outside and mounted his bike, starting back the road with his bag of goodies on his right handlebar, starting to hum as he went, his home in his sights. He pulled into the driveway and parked his bike in the garage, taking the bag and making his way to the front porch, taking out his key before noticing the door was cracked open slightly.

Didn't he lock that on the way out? 

He shrugged it off, maybe his grandmother came outside and left it open, she could be so forgetful after all! He pushed the door open and froze, eyeing the man walking around in his kitchen, a large black bag in his hands. He shut the door quietly, not all the way as to not make noise and looked over to the mantle where he kept one of his guns. It was gone. Granny never touched his guns.  
Jake lowered himself, setting the bag down as he crept to the kitchen, peeking around the corner as his eyes caught his grandmother, sitting in the chair, watching the man with a look of terror in her old features. It took everything Jake had no to jump out and scream, but he froze as the man took out his favorite pistol, aiming it at your grandmother.

Oh good lord please no.

He froze, muscles refusing to move as emerald eyes widened as the man pulled the trigger, a small line of red catching his eye. He slumped in the corner much like the body of his guardian slumped in the chair, Jake clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. The man grabbed a few more things before walking right past Jake, he guessed he was hidden in the darkness of the room or the man simply was in too big of a rush. He watched the man as he took his gun with him, shutting the door like nothing happened.

Jake sat there, stunned in fear and horror. He curled his knees up to his chest and sobbed, unable to look up at the shell of his grandmother as he heard a steady drip start to ring in his ears.

-

Jake slammed his palms down against the grey table, his eyes blazing with anger.  
"What do you friggen' mean its not enough evidence?! I saw him! I watched him break into my home and kill her! What more do you need?!" The investigator who had been working on your grandmother's murder case shook his head, short grey hair moving slightly. "We can't warren an arrest because you said you saw him, he didn't have anything at his home relating to the crime, not your stolen gun, not anything he supposedly stole." he said calmly, hands lacing on the table.

"This is ridiculous!"

"Perhaps you are mistaken-"

Jake slammed his fists into the metal table, gritting his teeth. "No, I could never forget that face! I watched him as he pulled that cursed trigger! I watched him take our things and run off like a freaking coward!" This was so very very bad, after all the time it took to find this guy, they can't even arrest him because he got rid of all the evidence.  
Jake slumped back into his chair, threading his fingers into his hair as he hung his head and groaned, resisting the urge to sob. There was no way he was going to cry in front of this man. After all this time, all this work...

"I guess i'll take my leave then." Jake muttered, standing up on legs that felt too weak to support him, knees that threatened to buckle. He left without another word, pushing the glass door open and exiting the police station, making his way home on foot.

'This isn't over.' Jake thought to himself. 'Not by a long shot.'  
-

Jake crept around the side of the building, old and uncared for, as he neared the open side window. He had been grinning like a madman all day, stroking the single gun on his right hip as he had neared the home. Jake peeked inside, a single lamp was on, otherwise it was silent. He slipped inside the window, creeping quickly to the second floor, he knew the layout of the home, and he knew this man had a routine, one he had memorized in his days of spying.

He took the steps slowly, not making a sound. His heartbeat was slowing and his breath was coming slower. He saw the bedroom door was cracked, peeking inside he saw the man was already in bed, the moonlight from his bedside window shining on his form. Jake felt his stomach churn and his gut clench. 

Breathe.

He slowly pushed open the door, his hands gripping the rough rope that he clutched to his chest as he heard the light snoring of the sleeping man not ten feet from him. The same man that took his only family. The same man who stole his gun and used it against him in the most horrible way. His eyes darted to a flash of reflected light, spotting said gun on the bedside table. Jake smirked. He made his way over to the foot of the bed, tying his feet like they taught him in Boy Scouts, then he moved up to his torso, grabbing his hands and gently moving them up, tieing each wrist to one end of the headboard. His face was beginning to hurt from the Cheshire cat smile he was donning.

His fingers drug through the man's hair, slowly lifting his head to tie the gag into his mouth. As much as he wanted to hear this fucker scream, he wanted to have his fun. He took his knife and started to cut clothes off, starting with his shirt. By the time he had it removed the man was awake, screaming and bucking his body up in an attempt to get away. Jake shifted, cutting off his pants and tossing them on the floor, he drug his sharpened blade across disgusting skin, splitting it as red pooled down his leg, staining the bed. The man screamed of course, but the gag kept it from getting too loud. He had been studying the human body, where vital arteries are, when to cut to make it slow and painful. He moved to his arms, dragging the silver and black blade down and across his arms, keeping them shallow so he didn't bleed out. He didn't want his fun to end too soon. He repeated this process with the other arm, the man becoming desperate now, pulling on his restraints with such force Jake saw blood pooling around them. He cooed softly in amusement, resting the knife over his groin. 

"I should cut off your bloody dick and shove it down your throat." His voice held something in it now, a tone he had never used in the past. It sounded so calm and almost friendly, but the hidden undertone of madness flickered both in the words he spoke and in his green eyes that roamed over the man's bloodied body, licking his lips as he trailed the knife's blade up his boxers, tearing and ripping them off as they joined the rest of the clothing on the floor. He drug the blunt end of the knife up the man's cock, reviling in the way he flinched back, screaming louder then ever.  
It took a few more hours of slow cuttings and sadistic talking to the man before Jake felt like his end was nearing, the way he fought less and screamed quieter. Jake figured he should end this. 

"Oh! And you probably don't even know who I am." Jake chuckled, a dark and almost demonic sound. "My name is Jake English, grandson of that lovely old lady you murdered a few weeks back." Jake shook his head almost sadly. "As fun as this endeavor has been, i'm afraid its time to end our little game." He picked his gun off the bedside table. "I'll be taking this back, if you don't mind." He licked his lips, checking and seeing that it was still fully loaded with six bullets. "Oh why thank you." He aimed at his right arm, firing the gun and alerting everyone to his little fiasco. The man screamed and tried to grip his arm, Jake's eyes watched as he squirmed. He shot his other arm and both his legs, unloading all but one bullet into his stomach, letting him sit there in a bloody puddle that used to be a bed. 

"You fucked with the wrong family."

Jake pulled the trigger and ended the man's life, looking out the window as he heard sirens, dropping his guns on the floor to join the empty shells, walking outside to sit on the front porch, tossing his knife around as he awaited for the police, singing softly to himself.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."

He saw the lights reflecting off the buildings and in the windows.

"You make me happy, when skies are grey..."

At least three or four cars were heading right for this street, Jake looked down at his hands, stained red with the man's blood.

"Y-You'll never know deer...."

He felt tears falling down his tanned cheeks.

"How much I love you..."

He heard men getting out of their cruisers and he stood, dropping his knife and raising his hands over his head.

"So please don't take -"

"Get on the ground now!" he heard someone yell. His face hurt from the grin on his face that accompanied the tears.

"My sunshine away..."


	2. A First Time Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues! Jake is arrested and sent to prison and the poor baby doesn't fare well, thankfully, someone is there to soften the blow.

Jake was tried the next week for both the murder of his grandmother, and the murder of the man who actually killed her. Jake sat quietly, no friends or family to be by his side, no lawyer to defend him. He was completely alone, a monster in everyone in this room's eyes. He pleaded guilty and insanity, he knew he wouldn't win a fight about who killed his grandmother, she was killed with his gun, after all. He was sentenced to life in prison with a chance of parole, Jake was led out of the court room in handcuffs, swarmed by the news people who wanted to get him to say something, to comment on why and how he killed them both. 

Sadistic motherfuckers.

He was transported on a bus to a large facility, large grey concrete blocks surrounded by fencing and barb wire. Jake frowned at the sight of the men in the yards, playing basketball and whatever the fuck else they were doing. Once they pulled in,Jake was led to a room, and was changed into a straight jacket and a pair of orange pants. When the person changing him went to hike up his pants, he kicked out and broke the man's nose. He was then later convicted of assault on an officer.

Jake was led into a room that was soft to the touch, at least his feet, they took his shoes due to the fact he kicked the man. He shifted, sitting down in the corner as the door was shut, starting to sing the song his grandmother used to sing to him as he rocked from side to side, looking like a proper wacko until someone came in with a bowel of mashed potatoes, Jake sighed, but accepted spoonful after spoonful of the mushy food, wishing he had some jerky to chew on.

He would be sometimes left for days with little to no human contact other then the people who came in to feed him, sometimes they would just slid it inside as he would have to bend over like an animal and eat it from the bowel, wiping his face off on the walls. After a few days, (There was a digital clock high up on the ceiling) Jake gave up on eating all together, he never fought when people came in to give him medicine to make him 'better', he never could sleep and wished they had given him the death penalty. At least it would be a relief from this prison.After two weeks, a girl came in and let him know he would start seeing a therapist to try and fix him, Jake was curious, but did not want to go and meet some quack who 'only wanted what was best for him'. 

They led him into the cafeteria that day, letting him out of that jacket for the first time, Jake immediately found a desk and nabbed a pen, scratching his back and groaning. Once they let him in, he snatched a tray, standing in line with the rest of the inmates, scowling and grinding teeth as he got a few whistles and comments about either his ass or how he was fresh/dead meat. Jake ignored them, watching a worker come over to him. "Here," They said, "Let me help you." Jake snapped and shoved them back. "I don't need help getting food, i'm a fucking murderer not a child!" He hissed, a guard coming to put a hand on his shoulder and escort him out before a fight broke out. Jake noticed as they walked down the hallway they had neglected to put his jacket on. Jake instantly took advantage of it and grabbed the guard whose hand was on his shoulder, getting a fist-full of his hair and headbutting him so hard he fell to the ground unconscious, Jake took the other on by lowering himself and driving him back into the wall with sheer force, grinning wickedly before he felt someone tackle him from behind and pinning his arms behind his back. Jake kicked and yelled, twisting his head back to see blonde hair. 

"You motherfucker! Get the hell off me!" Despite him screaming out the stranger (whom wasn't wearing an officers outfit) stayed quiet until help arrived, putting him in some sort of collar with long poles on four sides, guiding him back down the hallway like a ferral dog. They didn't bother to put him back in his jacket and just threw him into his room, Jake sat down, hanging his head before starting to laugh. He stood and dropped down onto his hands and toes, starting his old training regimen that he had long not been able to do. It pissed him off how he was five push ups behind his previous limit, but accepted it and stood, grinning madly at the camera, giving a mock salute. 

 

A few hours later he was rushed by more men, tied down and shoved back into the jacket, pushed and kicked as he was led to a hallway full of doors. They stopped at one, a name and number, Dr. Strider Room 413, on the wood in a silver plaque as they entered and shoved Jake into the chair, tying his legs and arms to the chair, keeping him from getting up and putting two armed guards at the door.

_

Just hours prior, Dirk struggled in restraining the young male that packed far more power than he would have thought possible. Now he was sitting with a madman who looked as if he was plotting his death right then and there.

"Afternoon, Jake." He searched wild green eyes for a hint of humanity. 

"Can you tell me why you're here?"

"I am here...because I killed a man." Jake muttered slowly, the way he spoke made alarms go off in the therapist's mind.

"And because you killed your g-"

Something seemed to snap in his patient because his eyes flared up from their more docile state, he struggled in his chair and nearly knocked it and himself onto their side. "I was convicted of killing her, I didn't do it!"

"You do realize that lying to me will do you no good." Dirk sighed, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. Through the madness and hatred in the boy's eyes, he could see longing and pure and unadulterated sadness, he didn't believe he killed his grandmother. But his opinion didn't matter, only the answers to the questions he had did. 

"I know, but it's no lie, I loved her, I did not kill her." His voice was icy now.

"Indeed." Dirk clicked his pen, resting it on his notepad. "Tell me, how did you kill Mr. Stain. The man who supposedly actually killed her?"

Jake got a sadistic grin that Dirk had only seen on the truly mad patients he had treated. "Oh...you want details do you?" He chuckled, his head lolling off to one side as eyelids shut, teeth showing as he recalled everything. "I stalked him, did you know he had a family?"

Dirk nodded slowly.

"A wife and three little girls, its too bad their father was a murderer, they'll have to grow up without a father, but I'm glad I did it, no one needs to be raised with someone like that." He spat it like a slur.

"Indeed...go on." Dirk started to jot down notes and Jake's head snapped to the paper. 

"What are you doing?"

"Taking notes, gotta' write up a report after we-"

"You will not take such notes! Nor will you write some 'report' about this! I thought this was to help me, not incriminate me further!" Jake hissed, his eyes glowing behind thin glasses. He looked as if he would slit Dirk's throat if he got the chance. Better make peace.

"Alright, alright." He said slowly, lowering the pad on the table, starting to draw little doodles on them. "Hows this? How about we just draw shit for the rest of your time?"

He guessed his tactic worked because Jake looked about as confused as a fish out of water. 

"Draw? I mean." He struggled with his jacket, Dirk smirked. "I'm not able to in my current state..." The madness had died from his voice and Dirk took a breath.

"How about I let you out? Can you behave yourself? I mean, those dudes over there," He pointed with his pen over Jake's shoulder to the two armed guards. "they'll shoot you the second you get a weird look on you, can I trust you?"

Jake paused, Dirk could tell he was weighing his options. "Sure." He finally said, grinning wide. But it wasn't one of his insane ones, it was almost...playful? No that couldn't be it. Regardless, Dirk stood and unfastened his jacket from the chair, slowly undoing the straps of his jacket. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

"No, not really." Jake replied, almost a laugh. "I don't really trust anyone dressed in those garbs."

Dirk snorted. "Dude, you mean my coat? All of us doctors have them-"

"Precisely." 

He rolled his eyes and finished with the straps, tugging the sleeves up to show his callused hands, letting his eyes wonder over them as he cuffed the fabric. "Heh, you going to stab me if I hand you the pen?"

Jake laughed, rubbing his wrists and scratching his palms. "Scouts honor says I wont."

Dirk sat back down at his side of the table, taking the pen and drawing his triangular shades, they were at home of course, like they would let him in there with pointed anime shades, he was a genius, and he needed to act like it so he didn't get fired. "So, Jake." Dirk started slowly, shifting the pen and paper over to the tanned teenager. "Got any hobbies?"

_

The rest of their two hours went about like two strangers, asking each other questions and laughing occasionally, most of it coming from the teenager who sat across from the blonde. Dirk had to admit, to himself anyways, that he rather enjoyed the other male's company when he wasn't threatening to kill him. He was just like any other teenager, he was going to go to school, graduate and try and get a job teaching people about safety with guns, he wanted to work at the gun store down the street from his home. He didn't have many friends to speak of, he told him he had an online friend named Jane he talked to, but since he was put here he hasn't been able to contact her. 

"How's about I bring in my personal computer tomorrow and we explain to Janey that you're going to be away for some time?" He offered a grin, leaning back in his chair. "As a personal favor from me."

Jake looked suspicious. "Why would you do that for me? Won't you get into trouble?" He glanced back at the guards. 

"Oh please, i'm the best guy they have, if they fire me they're sunk." He snickered. "How about we make a deal? I'll let you talk to your friend tomorrow, if you promise to behave for the rest of our sessions?" He arched an eyebrow as Jake's eyes lit up, his hands moving to grab the pad and paper, scrawling on it for a moment. "Dude what are you-"

He held the paper up, on it was a poorly drawn doodle of himself and Jake in their little room. "Yeah! It's a deal!"

From then on Dirk wore a black coat to their sessions.

_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, i'll be posting the next chapter soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Woot! First chapter! I'm excited! This is my first writing on here, I hope you guys like it!


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